After the first loss

So I was kept in overnight after the operation. For my birthday tea I had some iced water and a mint.

They had prescribed medication so I was still in bed the next day waiting for the drug round. The lovely surgeon called by and explained the procedure, asked how I was and offered to show me pictures. I asked to see them, then he put them back in my file. He told me the “tissue” had gone to pathology, considering the subject he was as sensitive as he could be. He was actually the nicest person I met during it all. He then went on to explain that the human body is very clever and that over time it was more likely that my left ovary would release eggs as my body would realise  it was pointless using the right side. I don’t know how true this is and I was in my late 30’s anyway so it wasn’t really going to affect me. I was done. I was heartbroken. I wasn’t going to try again.

The psychological impact was that I no longer felt like a proper woman. I couldn’t keep hold of a baby, I’d lost half my reproductive system I felt like a failure. No one understood although looking back I’m more forgiving, what do you say to someone who has been through that. “Focus on the kids you’ve got” ” some people don’t get any” “you can always try again”.

All I had to show that she’d existed was three little scars, they’d done a laparoscopy, and gone in through my c section scar and a positive pregnancy test which is in a little bag with my pregnancy notes. I couldn’t talk about it. I know people have different views on what constitutes a proper loss but I don’t judge them on their opinion. As soon as I see that positive on the wee stick I’m planning. Up to that point I never planned on not having a baby in my arms a few months later.

I also think that because so much has happened over such a short time I never get a chance to process anything before the next disaster is upon me. This year I decided to start trying to make sense and come to terms with things. It may take longer than a year but I need to find some sense somewhere or I’m going to lose myself in what if’s and why’s.

I think the ectopic pregnancy was one of the harshest things I’ve gone through. To put it into perspective for my husband, Leon, I told him that. He knows so much about my life and that statement let him know just how bad it was. “Really? Even worse than……” yes dear, even worse than all that other crap.

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